Burns and Frostbite
by shatterthoughts
Summary: Right after the fight in 1x10. Barry's hurt. Caitlin's back. Then the fact that two psychopaths kidnapped Caitlin and almost killed her starts to catch up to them. Snowbarry.
1. Chapter 1

**Minor spoilers for episode 10 - takes place right after the big fight. They kind of skipped over how Barry was sort of shot, like a lot, with multiple guns... so this is me going back to that point in time. Will be a two-shot most likely - Snowbarry, but Westallen friendship. TRIGGER WARNING: ehm panic attack, kind of, not bad, just don't want to accidently set anyone off. Anyway, hope you enjoy :)**

Barry winced again.

"Easy," Caitlin said, "I need you to hold still."

"Trying," Barry said. His voice squeaked a little. He cringed just at that.

Caitlin pulled back another part of the suit. Barry clenched his teeth and screamed. It felt like she was ripping his skin off. She was ripping his skin off.

"Sorry," she said quickly, "Almost there."

There was another pull and black dots swam in front of Barry's eyes. It took all his self-control not to tear his arm back. Since getting his powers he found he was rapidly becoming used to being in pain.

It wasn't one of the side effects he enjoyed.

He was huffing for breath and the pain was a little too much. He closed his eyes and brought his head back and groaned. This was worse than Caitlin popping his shoulder back in.

"Lie back, Barry," Caitlin said. And then there were hands on his shoulders and he was against the back of the bed leaning down before he knew what was happening. And then there was another stabbing streak of pain.

"Aghhh!" he yelled, curling upwards. Caitlin's grip on his arm was hard though.

"Stay still," she said. She tore another piece away.

"Ohhh, how much more?" Barry asked, turning his head away from her and cringing.

"Almost done."

"You've been saying that for the past twenty minutes," Barry said.

"Just a little more."

Barry shot a glimpse over. His stomach churned and he immediately looked back again. His skin was torn up and oozing blood in some places. It looked like he had severe road rash. His right side was worse, where the heat gun had hit him. Cisco might have made the suit with heat resistance in mind, but it had melted under the effects of the gun. Melted right onto his skin.

"Aghhooowwww!" Barry yelled. He jerked his arm away from Caitlin, but she was at his shoulder. Blood trickled down his arm but she wiped it away. Barry was still gritting his teeth together when he felt her fingers on him again. He flinched away.

"Just one more," she said.

"Oh, one more and then you get to start tearing into my other arm?"

"Frostbite should be easier," she said, "the skin I'll cut into on that side will already be dead."

"How comforting," he mumbled.

She tore the last bit off of him. He sucked in a breath and bit back a yell. God, his whole body hurt.

"Alright," she said, "Done. Just have to clean them out."

Barry groaned again. Caitlin came back with water, bandages, a salve, and the dreaded disinfectant.

"No," Barry said, his eyes pleading.

"Yes," Caitlin said, "It'll be done in a minute."

"That stuff hurts," he said.

"Done in a minute," Caitlin said, with finality.

"Caitlin."

"I have to clean it out, Barry."

"But –"

"No," she said, "Not up for discussion."

He frowned, giving her an absolute miserable face. She sighed.

"Give me your hand."

Barry looked at her curiously, but put his hand up. She took it in hers and started rubbing circles on the back of his hand. "Relax," she said, "Look over there."

Barry grimaced, but turned away. He tensed up.

"Alright, ready? I'll count to three. One, two –"

Barry didn't hear the last one he was too busy screaming. Caitlin kept cleaning the wounds. He was a shaking mess afterwards, panting and exhausted.

"Well that was fun," he said.

"Sorry, I know it hurts," she said, "honestly, you've taken the whole painkillers-don't-work-on-me thing pretty well so far."

"Yeah, well, don't count on me sitting still for stitches if that ever comes up."

"Then don't get cut open," she said.

"I'll keep it in mind."

She finished wrapping up his arm and moved to the other side. He was covered in patches of blackened skin, severe frostbite. There wasn't much Caitlin could do for that – just heat up the area, cut away any dead skin, and wait for it to heal. He sat up again as she finished, his feet hanging off the edge of the bed. He had learned a long time ago not to watch what she was doing, so he stared ahead, looked around the room.

"How do you feel, anyway?" Caitlin asked, "I mean, there could be side effects to being blasted like that by two opposite temperatures, with the ways your cells regenerate I mean."

"I feel fine," he said. Well, that was a lie. His whole body ached. His arm hurt. His side hurt. The frostbite patches were numb but the skin around it was on fire. He had a headache and he was slightly nauseas.

"How about you?" he asked, "Are you doing alright?"

She paused for a second. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, "They didn't hurt me."

"I know," Barry said, "I just meant… you're alright, like OK? Feeling OK?"

"I'm fine, Barry," she said, "glad to be back, but fine."

He broke his rule and looked over at her. "Really?" he asked.

But she met his eyes. "Really," she said, "You know – after the explosion and all – traumatic experiences – they really just don't compare."

"Oh," he said, "Well, if you're ever not, for any reason –"

She smiled at him. "I know," she said, "But right now – I'm more concerned about you. Can you get up?"

Barry pushed off the bed and stood by himself. His vision ran black for a second and the world spun. His knuckles went white on the edge of the bed, but everything cleared and the world stopped shaking in a few seconds.

"Yeah," he said, "Think I just need something to eat."

Caitlin grabbed a calorie bar and handed it to him. He ate it in seconds. That cleared things a little bit more. He was starting to feel better.

That when Cisco came in, not at all happy. "You tore my suit?"

Caitlin rolled her eyes. "It was tear the suit or tear Barry."

"Which she did anyway," Barry cut in.

Cisco fumed. "That's two suits – two suits you have ruined. What were you even doing? Fire and ice? What, was this a poetic little fight of yours? You couldn't have just gotten them to shoot each other?"

"Believe me I tried," Barry muttered.

Cisco kept going on but Barry stopped listening. He was exhausted.

"I'm going to go home," he said. "Do you need a ride?" he asked Caitlin. Her car was still considered evidence.

Cisco raised his hand, still looking down at something. "Already on it," he said.

Caitlin smiled. "As much as I would love catching on fire while you whisked me back to my apartment, I think I'll just catch a ride with Cisco."

"Your loss," Barry said, heading out the door.

He didn't take off running though, when he was out. He really didn't feel that great. Instead he walked, going along the roads for a while. Eventually he started to get cold and it was late, so he took off. He made it almost all the way home. Then he stopped short.

It was like before, when he didn't know he had to eat as much as he did. He just got dizzy and out of breath, and almost blacked out. He stopped himself though. So maybe he wasn't totally up to par yet. He looked at the street sign where he was. He could walk the rest of the way.

But the longer he walked, the more he started feeling like he was going to throw up. The injuries under his clothes hurt, and he was dead tired, and on top of that, the adrenaline was leaking out of his systems, and the whole day's events came crashing back.

He couldn't get the image of her car out of his head, the ice, the yellow tape, her face on that TV screen. The cops and the guns and not knowing if Cisco and Joe would find her or not, if he would even be able to beat these guys. It all played in his head. But most of all there was the absolute blind panic when he first walked into that scene, first saw her car, first realized what had happened, the dawning realization that surfaced in a cloud of dread, and then the flood, the terror and denial, no this didn't happen, couldn't happen. He let out a long, shaky breath. Guilt. His fault, his connection, he should have been there.

It was illogical and he knew it but it kept playing over in his head. He shouldn't have ignored them. He should have listened to Joe. He should have been there, should have been ready.

His hands were starting to shake and his head was throbbing. When he came up to the corner block he took a right instead of a left. Joe's house was closer than his apartment. He was getting cold all over.

He reached up and rang the doorbell, waited and then it opened. Iris was standing there.

"Oh, Iris, hi," Barry said. He was expecting her to be with Eddie right now, wasn't expecting her to be home.

"Barry," Iris said. That was it. Barry's stomach turned again.

"I uh, I was just looking for Joe."

"He's in bed," she said. Her brow creased. "What are you doing out so late?"

He looked at his watch. He hadn't even realized the time.

"Oh, I – it's, never mind – I'll just – I'll talk to him in the morning, I'll just go."

He turned to leave but Iris grabbed his arm. He winced as she touched a sore spot.

"Wait, Barry, are you alright?""

Barry turned around and she let go of his arm. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said. But Iris looked down and Barry tried to hide the shaking but his hands weren't cooperating.

"Come inside," she said, giving him a strange look.

"No, it's fine, I better go," he said.

"Barry," she said, "your face is as white as a sheet, what's wrong?" Whatever awkwardness there was between them it had slipped off her face in a moment.

"Nothing," he said too quickly, "I just –"

"Come inside," she said, and then she was pulling him, and then he was on the couch, and his damn hands wouldn't stop shaking, and he felt like he was going to pass out again, his head spinning, the world doing that tilting thing again which he really could live without.

"Why are you out so late?" she said.

Barry's mind blanked. "I was with Caitlin."

And Iris's face softened, her eyes slanted in that knowing way that she always got. She leaned down, her elbows on her knees.

"Right, they found her, didn't they?"

"Yeah."

"Is she alright?"

"Yeah, she's – she's doing great, actually."

"But you're not."

"I um… I feel a little sick."

"Maybe you should lie down."

"No," Barry said, "I'm fine. Just – a cold or something."

"You know she's alright now, right."

"Yeah," Barry said, "Of course."

"She's OK, Barry."

"I know," he said.

"Yeah, but your arms are still shaking and your face has gone from white to slightly gray."

Barry wiped his hands over his face, the line of thought Iris was following just now occurring to him.

"Iris, I'm fine. I know she's OK. I just saw her, this isn't – this isn't –"

"Stress?" she asked, "Shock?"

"I'm fine," he said.

She raised one eyebrow. "Yeah, OK. You want me to wake up my dad? You want to talk to him?"

"Iris –"

"Then talk to me."

"I'm just getting sick –"

"Bullshit."

"Iris –"

"You show up here at two in the morning looking like you've just had a heart attack and you want me to think you have a cold?"

"Yes?"

Iris shot him a look. He glanced down, stared at the rug for a little while.

"Alright, I'm not OK," he said quietly.

She moved over beside him. "One of your friends was kidnapped. She's OK now though."

And only then did the shaking really start, did the full truth of what had happened actually crash into him. She was taken. She almost died. He couldn't do anything to stop it.

"Feels like I'm eleven again," he mumbled.

Iris's hand was on his back. "You're not. And she's OK. And the guys who took her are going to be locked up forever."

Locked up forever. It didn't strike as a comforting thought. It should have. It didn't.

The car was flashing in front of his eyes. The ice. Yellow tape. Police cars. The video in the station, her face, terrified. Nothing he could do. Helpless. He should have been there, should have listened, should have done something when he had the chance.

"Barry," she said.

"I couldn't do anything."

"This wasn't your fault Barry."

And he wondered how she could know to say that when she didn't know about the Flash, about who he was. Maybe she just knew him well enough to know he blamed himself for everything.

"I was scared," he said.

"It's OK."

"God, Iris – I just –" he choked off. It was overwhelming him, the fear and the exhaustion and the pain, and it was all crashing into him and he couldn't be there – he couldn't be there.

He stood up abruptly. "I have to go," he said.

"What?" Iris said, "Where? Barry, just sit back down for a second."

"No – I have to – I'll be back, Iris just – thanks, OK?" He started opening the door.

"Barry!"

But when Iris got there he was gone.

**Next chapter Snowbarry :) Let me know what you think and review please - comments, suggestions - i really appreciate it. More soon :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**OK probably three chapters now, maybe four - I have this problem with hurt comfort where i get just a tad too carried away with things... anyway thanks for reading and commenting! No warnings, lots of medical stuff which is probably highly inaccurate but I tried - if anyone sees any glaring errors and wants to let me know it would be appreciated! Other than that hope you like it!**

Barry knocked on the front door to Caitlin's apartment before he even thought about what he was doing. Then he stood there for a full minute wondering what exactly it was he thought he was doing. She was probably tired, sleeping. He had just seen her, what was he doing? But then she opened the door and he didn't have time to think anything else.

"Barry," Caitlin said, surprised.

"Hi," he said, "I uh, I just –"

She moved backwards, letting him in. She hadn't changed out of her clothes. Her eyes looked red though. Had she been crying? Was she alright?

"Are you OK?" Barry asked.

Caitlin just looked at him. "I'm fine. Are _you_ OK?"

"Yeah," he said.

Caitlin's eyes flashed up and down. "No you're not."

"Well neither are you."

Her eyebrows went up again. "Barry," she said, "what are you doing here?"

Well wasn't that a great question. "I just – I never asked. I mean the explosion – are you OK? I mean I know they didn't hurt you but Cisco said there was a bomb and –"

"A couple bruises," she said, "I'm OK."

And Barry was looking at her arms, at her face, wondering what a couple bruises looked like, needing to see it, to know she was alright, to see it for himself. But he swallowed it down and looked back up at her eyes instead.

"Good," he said. And then a wave of nausea ran over him and his vision ran black and he had to grab the wall. Caitlin was saying something but he didn't hear and the world was somehow spinning even though he couldn't see anything of it. It only lasted a minute, and then he was staring at a very worried Caitlin and realizing he was leaning against the wall, a death grip on one edge of it.

"Barry?" Caitlin said. It was drawn out, her eyes wide.

"I'm OK," he said, "I just – I don't know. I feel kinda sick."

And then someone was dragging him to the couch for the second time that day and he sat down. She came back with a six pack of water bottles and two boxes of breakfast bars. She pointed.

He nibbled on a breakfast bar at her stare, but it made him feel sick. For once he didn't want to eat.

"When Snart took you," he said slowly, "I mean, I can't imagine…"

Caitlin was quiet. "I was scared," she said, "but I knew you guys would find me." She smiled at him.

It made Barry's stomach clench. But what if they didn't? What if they were too late? What if the bomb had gone off with her on top of it? What if he hadn't crossed the lines?

"Yeah," he said. His mouth was dry.

"It was…" she shuddered and Barry reached out without thinking, taking her hand. He started rubbing circles with his thumb, just like she had for him at the lab. She looked down at it, but she didn't pull away, didn't tense or move. "It was terrifying," she said softly.

"Yeah," he said. "It's OK now though."

"It's OK now."

Caitlin's hands started to tremble, and Barry was still shaking a little. What a mess they were, he couldn't help thinking. It made him smile a little bit.

"I'm sorry I popped up out of nowhere," Barry said, "I uh – I panicked a little bit."

Caitlin looked up at him, a smile curving on her lips. "Yeah, I hadn't noticed."

He smiled back at her. "Hey, let me be the worried one for once."

"You don't get to be the worried one. _I'm_ the one kidnapped and I still end up patching _you_ up afterwards." She poked him in the chest and he would have laughed but it sparked a line of pain and he winced again. Caitlin's smile melted off in a second.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I forgot – is it – how is it healing?"

"I hadn't checked," he said. Not fast though. Not as fast as usual. Everything still hurt.

"Let me see," she said.

"Caitlin –"

"Barry."

Barry sighed and shrugged off his jacket, then his shirt, painfully. He looked at the frostbite, which was uncovered. It was a little smaller than before. The skin around it was red and inflamed. Caitlin had told him that was a good sign, that it meant it was healing, but it still hurt. She started pealing back the bandages over the burns. Barry winced.

"Oh, Barry," she said. Barry looked over.

The burns didn't look much better, if anything some of them looked worse. The ones on his hands and wrists looked a lot better, but closer to his shoulder and side they seemed to be just be getting more red, more frayed, more painful. He didn't understand it. Why wasn't he healing? He didn't have time to ponder long. A wash of dizziness swept over him and he grabbed Caitlin's arm, eyes closing. A searing pain slipped across his chest, and another one down his back. He opened his mouth in a shocked, silent cry.

"Barry," Caitlin said, "hey, Barry, stay with me."

Barry blinked and looked up, shuddering as the pain was gone in another second. It left behind a burning residue.

Caitlin had her hands up at his chest, poking at one of the wounds there. Barry flinched away and she placed one palm flat against his skin.

"Easy," she said, "We need to get you back to Star Labs."

Barry groaned. "I really don't want to go back there."

Caitlin gave him a look.

"Do we have to?"

"Yes."

"I don't think I can run us there."

"You're not getting off that couch until I have a car waiting," Caitlin said. She got up and was on her phone, calling Wells and Cisco.

"Cisco's on his way," she said. She picked up the breakfast bar, "You need to eat something.

"I really don't want to," Barry said. He closed his eyes again. His head was pounding.

"I don't care."

Barry opened them again and scowled. He took the breakfast bar from her, bit off a couple bites. She watched, was silent until he finished it, then handed him another.

"Caitlin –"

"I'll get you a calorie bar when we get there, but for now you have to get something in your stomach."

Barry took the second one and kept eating. He looked at the box – some wheat nutritious something or other. They tasted worse than Cisco's calorie bars.

She tapped at the wound on his chest again. Barry flinched as it caused his whole side to flare up.

Caitlin moved her hand to his forehead. She frowned. "You're burning up."

"I feel cold," he said. He was starting to shiver.

"Move over," Caitlin said, "Let me see your back."

Barry grudgingly moved to the side so she could see. She poked at his back and it was as bad as his chest.

"Ow, Caitlin," he said.

"It's where the frostbite meets the burns," she said, "that's where your injuries still look the worst – they're not healing right – or at least not as fast as the others."

"What does that mean?" he asked. His head was pounding more. The spinning was coming back, but this time it wasn't going away.

"It means we need to get you to Star labs," she said, "Get your temperature down, isolate the infected areas. Get you antibiotics and a tetanus shot."

"Great," he said.

"Actually, I really should have given you a tetanus shot before."

"I'm sorry," he said.

Caitlin turned around and looked at him. "For what?"

"You just got back. You should be sleeping. Resting."

"It's not your fault, Barry."

"If I hadn't –"

"You were doing what you thought was best."

"It still put you in danger."

"I'm out of danger now."

"Are you OK, though?"

"Barry," Caitlin said. She was smiling just the slightest, but her tone had taken on a note of exasperation. "I'm not made of glass. I'm… shaken, but I'll be alright."

"OK," he said, "I'm still sorry you have to take care of me instead of taking care of yourself and resting though."

"I'll rest plenty once you're all back together again."

He smiled. "Like humpty dumpty?"

Caitlin closed her eyes and sighed. "No," she said, "Because you will actually be back together once I'm done with you."

"I don't know if I should be reassured or scared."

"Probably both."

Caitlin's phone went off and she got it. Cisco was there.

The drive was short. Barry had his jacket back on, shivering, but Caitlin hadn't wrapped up the injuries again and it kept brushing against the fabric. Every bump made him hiss in pain.

"Wells is already on his way," Cisco said, "He'll have the med room ready."

When they got there Cisco had to help Barry inside. He couldn't walk in a straight line – kept having to grab onto things around him. When he was finally able to lie down on the medical bed it felt like a miracle.

Well, until it made his back catch fire.

He hissed and jumped up at the pain, groaning. He tried to gingerly lean back again, and then gave up. He grudgingly shrugged off the jacket when Caitlin told him to. He was so cold.

She started at the wounds on his chest and back, where the two guns had met. She dabbed and poked and he flinched and winced. Cisco came back with a calorie bar. He took one bite and wanted to throw up – refused to eat any more, even when Caitlin threatened. He couldn't even see straight anymore. He wanted to lie down but every time he tried his body protested. He was getting more and more frustrated, more and more tired and drained and miserable.

"Can I have a blanket?" he asked.

"We're trying to get your temperature _down_, Barry."

"But I'm cold."

Caitlin ignored him.

"Alright," she said finally, rewrapping some of the wounds. "I put some ointment on that should help. We're going to skip the tetanus shot and go for another antibiotic one instead. After that we'll get your temperature stabilized.

"Excellent," he said.

Barry made the mistake of looking over when Caitlin came back, holding a very, very large needle. He cringed.

"It's going to hurt," Caitlin said, "Hopefully with your speed it won't be for too long."

"Aren't antibiotic shots supposed to be like, extremely painful," Barry said, recalling something Joe had said a while back.

"Just hold still. Can't be worse than those burns earlier."

Caitlin took his arm. "Yeah and I really don't want to relive that either," Barry muttered.

She injected him and Barry bit down hard, tensing up everywhere. He yelled through his teeth.

"I may have had to give you an extra dose too," she said.

"Awesome," Barry ground out. She put her hand on his shoulder, setting the shot down.

"I'm going to start an IV drip, OK?"

Barry nodded as she slid the needle into his hand. That at least he was used to. It was nothing compared to the antibiotic shot.

"Temperature's down to 103," Cisco said.

"Starting a saline drip," Caitlin said.

Barry started zoning out. At some point after that Cisco called out his temperature again, 102. Caitlin came back to check the wounds. When Barry stole a glance it looked like they were finally healing, although slowly. They at least didn't look any worse.

"I have to give you another shot, Barry," Caitlin said after she looked.

Barry made a face at her.

"I know," she said, "Last one. I promise. Well, for today. We'll have to see how you look tomorrow."

"Just get it over with," he said.

It was the same one, a second dose, and it hurt just as bad. It seemed almost worse to Barry. He wasn't sure if it was because he had to get it in the same arm or if he was just so tired now that everything seemed worse.

Barry finally managed to lean down on his side, the one with the frostbite and not the burns. Still hurt. Not as much though. The frostbite was healing pretty well now.

He didn't remember falling asleep but the next thing he knew he was waking up to a sharp pain at his back. He blinked his eyes open and looked up to see Caitlin there, poking and prodding as usual.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Like shit."

He ached. On further inspection most of the burning, sharp pains were gone though. He looked at his arm and saw the frostbite significantly diminished. The burns were another story, but they too looked a little bit smaller.

He sat up slowly. Caitlin pointed to the calorie bar and water waiting on the tray next to him.

"Eat," she said.

Barry grumbled but took it. His stomach wasn't protesting anymore and his head had stopped spinning, although it was still pounding away as before.

"Did you sleep at all?" he asked.

"I dozed."

"Sorry."

"Stop saying that."

"I – um, not sorry?"

She shook her head at him. "Don't worry. I perfected the art of functioning off two hours of sleep long ago."

Barry shivered. "Am I allowed to have a blanket yet?" Caitlin checked his temperature again.

"You can have one," she said, "Right after I give you another shot."

Barry groaned. "Caitlin."

"There's still signs of infection. This should be the last one."

"You said that yesterday."

"I did not."

"Yes you –"

"I said it would be the last of the day. It's tomorrow."

"Technically –"

Caitlin ignored him once again and raised the shot. Barry cringed. She pressed down. Twenty minutes later Barry was wrapped in a blanket with a very sore arm, eating, to his dismay, another calorie bar.

"These things are gross," he said.

"I'll keep that in mind," Caitlin said from the panel monitoring his vitals.

"Where's Cisco?"

"He went home."

"Wells?"

"Should be back soon."

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure you're not dying."

Barry frowned. He was actually starting to feel a lot better. He just wished the burns would hurry up and heal already.

She came back over to where he was, inspecting the injuries. She looked over everything, but she kept going back to his shoulder, the back of it. She put salve on it like three times. Barry squirmed every time she touched there.

Wells arrived shortly after that, and then Cisco. Barry had to call in to the station to tell them he was sick. He talked with Cisco and Wells while Caitlin found somewhere to take a nap for a couple hours, then he fell asleep too. When he woke up Wells was still there and Cisco came back, but he left shortly afterwards. The day passed slowly, but that was alright. Barry was done with fast paced for a little while.

Sometime in the afternoon Wells left and Caitlin was checking his bandages for something like the fourth time that day and Barry was trying not to fidget but he was getting restless now. He felt fine except for a few aches and even the burns were mostly gone now. Caitlin was back at his shoulder, the same spot at always when her hand slipped down his arm.

"Barry," she said.

"Yeah?"

"You know how you were talking about stitches?"

Barry froze.

Caitlin took in a long breath. "We might have a little problem here."

**Alright so not a lot of Snowbarry in this one - next one i promise. Review please :) (They make me very very happy and totally make my day :) )**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you guys for all the reviews! Honestly still kind of amazed anyone likes these stories - been coming up with them in my head for forever but never wrote any of them down before - so thanks! You make me want to write more :) Anyway, a lot of medical stuff in this chapter - did a lot of research to try and make stuff accurate but I am not a doctor so roll with me on this one.**

Barry clenched his hands, trying to stay still while Caitlin looked at the wound on his shoulder.

"The tissue is damaged," she said, "It looks like… looks like you got burned, then hit with the cold gun over it. It's not healing. Your cells are attacking each other, trying to regenerate at different speeds. There's a lot of dead tissue from the frostbite – and it looks like the infection isn't going away here – it might be a different bacteria. I can try another set of antibiotics, but honestly Barry even if it cuts off the infection, there's no guarantee I won't still have to cut out the damaged tissue."

Barry swallowed hard. "How much is there?"

"It's not wide, just long, and somewhat deep. I'd have to stitch it up afterwards. Normally, I'd say it was going to leave a nasty scar, but with your healing I really don't know."

"What happens if you don't cut it out?" Barry asked.

Caitlin paused. "Best case scenario? You wind up with severe scarring and some damaged nerves. Worst case scenario – the infection spreads and it kills you."

"Assuming a different antibiotic will get rid of the infection?"

"We have to amputate your arm."

Barry put his head in his hands, breathed out a long sigh. "Doesn't sound like there's much choice then."

"I could try the antibiotics."

"I really don't want any more shots."

"No promises. You might need it anyway."

"What happens if we wait and try them?"

"If it works then I'll get rid of the worst of the dead tissue and there will be some bad scarring but that's it. If it doesn't work then the wound will get worse and it's going to take me longer to fix it."

Barry let out a shaky breath. "Alright," he said, "let's do it."

Caitlin called Cisco. He came back to the lab to help. Caitlin cleared off space at a table to work on. Barry watched while they got all the supplies ready. It made his stomach clench every time he saw a new scalpel or needle or other menacing looking item he couldn't identify. He was making himself sick, watching them.

"Barry," Caitlin said, noticing his eyes on them for the first time, "You're not helping yourself. Don't watch."

Barry looked down, but he didn't really know what else to do. He ended up taking out his phone, in a vain attempt to do something else. Caitlin called him over when they were ready.

She had the tools out of sight when he approached, even though his eyes darted around looking for them. They had a plastic sheet over the table.

"Lie down on your stomach," Caitlin said.

Barry gingerly lowered himself to the table, the injuries that still weren't fully healed protesting. He put his head between his arms. Caitlin took his arm and gently moved it into a different position though. Cisco grabbed a sweatshirt and balled it up for him to use as a pillow. Barry smiled in thanks, before settling back down.

His heart was pounding a little too much and he was nervous. It couldn't be worse than when they had to get the suit off, he told himself. It was still different though. He didn't have time to think about it then, now he had plenty of time for his mind to run circles around the procedure.

Caitlin touched his shoulder, her fingers cold and he tensed, almost jumping.

"Relax," she said, moving her hand over his shoulder. "The more you tense up, the more it will hurt."

"That's really not very reassuring," he said.

She sighed. "Just concentrate on staying still and relaxing the muscles in your back and arms."

He felt pressure on his back, tensed again involuntarily, but didn't feel any pain. He started to relax again, and that's when the little sparks of pain started up, just around the edges. She was getting rid of the dead tissue, and starting to cut into the inflamed, damaged sections. Barry closed his eyes and squeezed his one hand to a fist, trying his best to keep his other arm relaxed. It was hard though. He burrowed his head into the sweatshirt as it started to get worse. His toes curled and his teeth clenched. His arms started to shake and he kept moving his legs, twitching and fidgeting. He couldn't stay still.

"Barry," Caitlin said, "I need you to relax."

"I'm trying," he said. She was still cutting into him and the images of those scalpels came back, replaying behind his eyes.

She moved her hand to his neck, but it was gentle now, going back and forth and playing at the edge of his hair. "I need you to stop shaking."

Barry let out a long breath and focused on that, on calming down and breathing through the pain. He managed to stop, to get his body to still, and then Caitlin's hand left his neck and dread resurfaced in a cloud inside his head.

The first stab made him grunt, but for the most part he was silent, clenching his teeth tightly shut. He just had to make it through this, he told himself. It was just a little bit longer.

By the time she was finished it felt like his back was on fire and Cisco kept dabbing towels at his skin; he knew it was bleeding badly.

"I'm going to start the stitches now," Caitlin said.

"OK," Barry said, pushing his forehead against his arm. He was covered in sweat and he was back at the edge of that line of self-control. He just wanted it over with.

The needle slid into his skin and Barry gasped. It was painful and strange and it felt _wrong_. He could feel it going through his skin and out again and the thread trailing behind and it made him squirm. When Caitlin was cutting out the damaged tissue, it had hurt, but it had been through skin that was burnt and frozen and damaged to a point where it didn't connect to his nerves quite right. It had hurt, but this was going through healthy, normal skin, and she was stretching it taunt across the wound and his skin did not want to stretch like that, did not want to stretch like that at all.

He felt hands come down on his back, a steady, hard pressure, and he pushed back, startled.

"It's just me," Cisco said, "You're moving too much."

And Barry really, really did not like the feeling of not being able to move. Caitlin was making another stitch and Barry jerked under her fingers, and Cisco pressed down and he started shaking again, and his head spun.

"I know it hurts, Barry, but it will be over sooner if you hold still for me."

Barry shut his eyes, ground his forehead into the table and shuddered. He forced his arm to relax, to stop shaking, to steady his breathing. It hurt, it hurt so much, and all he wanted to do was stop, but he made his body keep still and let Caitlin make another stitch. The only sound was his labored breathing, the quiet, suppressed noises of pain. And he was thinking about how he was never, ever going to get himself cut open again.

"That's good, Barry," Caitlin said.

"How many does it need?" Barry asked when he trusted his voice again.

"Just focus on staying still."

"Caitlin."

"The less you move, the faster I can get it done."

"How many though? How much longer?"

"You've got a little ways to go, Barry."

Barry felt like screaming. He wanted to scream. Or cry. He definitely wanted to cry. This was too much – the suit and then the burns and being sick and the shots and the cutting and now he was exhausted and done, so done. And it hurt. It hurt a lot. It was worse than the suit stuck to his skin, worse than his dislocated shoulder, than the antibiotic shots. The only thing he could think of that surpassed it were when he punched Tony Woodward and broke every bone in his wrist and hand and probably when he was standing between Cold and Heat Wave with both guns on him. But those weren't for sustained amount of times. It was one shock of pain and then it was done. And he hadn't had to stay still for it.

"Barry, you have to stop shaking."

Barry hadn't even realized he had started again. There was an edge to Caitlin's voice which he hadn't expected. He was clenching both hands now, tensing up his arm and back and every part of his body, trying to keep himself from screaming.

"I can't, Caitlin," he ground out.

A moment later the pressure on his back switched and Cisco was holding his arm in place, and with the other hand his shoulder.

"You have to try for me, Barry," Caitlin said. "Focus. Calm yourself down, stop tensing up. You need to listen to me, Barry, it's going to get much more painful if you don't."

Barry wanted to stop now. He had half a mind to tell her that, but his body ran cold and he took a deep breath and concentrated again, made his muscles relax, made himself stop shaking, stay still. Caitlin was stitching while he did it, and every one made him clench his hand tighter, arch his feet and tense his legs.

"Wait," he said, his breath ragged. Caitlin paused.

"Barry, I have to –"

"Just – give me something to bite down on."

There was a pause, a long pause. His jaw already hurt, he was going to break his teeth at this rate.

He still had his eyes closed, sweat dripping down his forehead. Something was pressed into his mouth and he bit down. Caitlin kept going.

It felt like an eternity. Caitlin stopped telling him to hold still, Cisco just pressed on his shoulder harder and Caitlin did the best she could with Barry shaking. She was trying to go quickly, to go as fast as she could to get it over with for him, but it was a ragged cut and she had to be careful too.

Barry bit down hard on whatever they had given him. Felt kind of like leather, maybe a strip of the torn up suit. He was overheating, terribly hot, but he barely noticed. He was trying to stay still, trying to keep his concentration, but the pain was like a wave threatening to push him under. He wanted to pass out. He wished he would pass out. But no, his mind stayed stubbornly awake. Awake and totally conscious of the searing, stabbing pain radiating from his shoulder. He tried relaxing his arm, tensing his arm – he couldn't feel the difference anymore so he gave up and pulled his muscles tight, relinquishing that facet to put his whole focus into not breaking down screaming. He could feel it threatening, that overwhelming desire to jump up, scream, fight. And underneath it was the crushing fear, the idea that he had to remain in control of himself, because if he lost it – if he lost it they would still hold him down and continue anyway and that – that was intolerable. The idea of it – to giving up, to saying stop, and being denied it, was terrifying – excruciatingly terrifying. So Barry clung to that last shred of self-control with every breath, every rasping gasp and clenched bite, until Caitlin was finally, mercifully done.

"That's it. That's the last one," Caitlin said. She wiped down on Barry's back and he had a split second to think "_no_" before the burning pain of the disinfectant ripped through his shoulder. He arched and yelled around the item between his teeth, but then Caitlin's hands were gentle on him again, wiping up the wound, pressing bandages over it.

"I know, I'm sorry, Barry. It's done now. All done. I'm wrapping it up."

The relief was incredible. Cisco's hands were gone and Barry slowly tried to sit up. Everything spun and he had to stop, going lightheaded.

"Easy," Caitlin said, "It's alright." She helped him sit up and finished bandaging over the incision. She had a small cloth and dabbed at his forehead, wiping away sweat. He flinched away at first, but then let her. He felt gross, and undeniably sticky. Besides the sweat there was still blood in spots smeared over him. His head spun again and that's when he doubled over and puked.

Barry was panting, staring at the floor where he just threw up the calorie bars they had made him eat. The black dots were back, his vision swimming. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn't move, just staring at the ground and the mess he had made with the world spinning and his back burning.

"I'll get a mop," Cisco said.

Caitlin had her hand on his back. "I'm so sorry," she said, "It's over though. You did great, Barry. You did really good."

And Barry was shaking and staring and it was too much, all too much and his careful control, that grip he had on himself, that he had to hold onto so tightly during the procedure, was suddenly crumbling and he was trembling and trembling and his mouth was shrinking back, his face contorting and his eyes burned _and_ _no no no no no_.

He hid his face in his hands, fingers clawing at his hair as tears slid from his eyes, despite his furious blinking. He couldn't stop and he couldn't breathe, because if he did his throat was going to make that pathetic, terrible rasping noise and he had made it so far, had made it through the entire thing, through all the pain without crying and why, why did his body have to betray him now, why did it decide now was a good time to break to pieces? He didn't understand it, and the frustration with himself only turned into more tears, only served to make it worse and he couldn't stop because it was too much, it was all too much and he was exhausted and it _hurt_, it still hurt and he just wanted the pain to stop already. He just wanted it to end and stop, he wanted everything to stop.

"Barry," Caitlin said. She leaned closer to him, had her hand on his arm now, because no matter how hard he tried, he was deteriorating to sobs and it was humiliating and exhausting and his hands really didn't make a very good hiding place.

"Barry," Caitlin said again, "Hey, what's going on? What's wrong?" She put her hands on his knees and tilted her head. She reached up and moved one of his hands away. Barry stared at the ground, wiping at his face and still trying to stop. "Hey," she said again, "It's alright. It's all over."

Barry nodded, taking in a shuddering breath. He repeated it in his head. It was over, done. It wasn't working.

"I know it still hurts," Caitlin said, "But it'll stop now. Soon, I promise. You're alright, Barry."

"It –" Barry tried. He stopped before he gave his voice a chance to crack.

"I know," she said, "it was a lot – too much. You did really good, Barry. It was hard, too hard. You shouldn't have had to do that."

"I – I just –" Too late. His voice did crack this time. His face flushed even more and he was bright red, embarrassed and humiliated and feeling like he really just wanted to crawl under a rock – actually he just wanted a nice place where he could completely break down and not worry about it. He didn't know why this was happening – it was over, it was supposed to be fine now, he was supposed to be fine now. But the stress had built up and now it was exploding, and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

"It's OK," she said, wiping back his hair, "it's OK."

It took him a while to calm down. When he did Caitlin had him move back to a bed, where he could lie down. And maybe Cisco had walked in, seen the scene in front of him, and promptly walked back out because he came back an awfully long time later with that mop. He cleaned it up and Barry had his eyes shut, and somehow Caitlin's hand had ended up in his hair and he really, really hoped she wouldn't move it. He was just starting to fall asleep when Caitlin called his name.

"Barry," she said, "I need you to eat something."

Barry groaned.

"I know," she said, "But you have to get something in you."

"Later."

"Just a few bites, then you can sleep," she said. Something pressed against his mouth.

Barry turned away, refusing to take it. Caitlin sighed and shook his arm, which made him grumble, but she got him to sit up a little bit and managed to coax him into eating a few bites of the calorie bar, and to drink some water after she threatened an IV line if he didn't. He grumbled and ate and stared daggers at her. She was not fazed. He finally was able to lean back again, his eyes closing and there was that hand in his hair again and his shoulder hurt but not so bad and then he was sinking into a comforting blackness.

**Erm, two more chapters. Probably. Maybe. Maybe three. Idk I keep coming up with more stuff. Thanks for reading! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**OK short one, sorry, just felt like it had to end at that spot. Anyway hope you like it.**

Barry had a very unhappy look on his face as Caitlin approached.

"Barry," she said.

He didn't move.

"It won't hurt," she said.

He made a face that clearly said he did not trust her on that.

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Barry, I have to look at it, come on."

He stared at her.

"You are acting like a child."

He scowled.

"Up."

So Barry reluctantly sat up from the bed and let Caitlin unwrap the bandages. She poked around the wound, and Barry heard a disgruntled noise come out of her throat. He turned his head.

"What is it?"

"It's scarring. I was hoping it wouldn't with your healing."

"But it's OK? Not infected or damaged or anything that could end up with you poking me with more needles?"

"Might need that antibiotic shot."

Barry groaned.

"But we knew that coming into this. Everything else looks fine. It'll probably still be sore for a day or two but I'm going to take the stitches out."

Caitlin didn't miss the way he tensed up at that, or the little breath that escaped his mouth.

"It won't hurt," she said again.

"Yeah, sure," Barry said. He fidgeted on the bed.

"Some people take them out at home. Doctors don't even give anesthetic for this when they do it."

"Sure."

Barry flinched when he felt the first tug, but Caitlin was right, it didn't hurt. Felt weird, and he didn't like it, but it didn't hurt. Either way he was very happy to have them out of his skin.

"All done," she said.

Barry let out a relieved sigh and lay back down. "Remind me to never, ever, get cut open again."

"That was a very ragged wound – if you needed them again it probably wouldn't be as bad."

Barry shuddered. "Yeah, well, I'd rather just not test that theory."

"That's fine with me," Caitlin said. She walked over to a table on the other side of the room.

"Noooo," Barry said, his face crumpling when he saw what she was holding.

"Last one," she said, holding the shot.

"Come on, Caitlin – it's already healed," he said.

"There's still signs of infection. You don't take in all the medicine because you go through it too fast."

"But it's already healed up almost all the way – I can get rid of the infection myself."

"Barry –"

"I don't need it," he said, trying for a harder tone, "I'm fine without it."

"And who's the doctor here, Barry?"

"Who's the overprotective bio-geneticist, here, Caitlin?"

"I am overprot-"

"You're not even a real doctor!"

That got him a look.

"I mean – I meant medical doctor, not doctor, doctor – bio-geneticist, not – not physician doctor."

"I'll have you know, Barry Allen, that I have a degree in –"

"You know what – let's go back to the overprotective part – it's my body – don't I get some say in this? I feel fine – excellent actually – absolutely perfect."

"Really? Would you like to go take a run on the treadmill, Barry?"

He didn't have anything to say to that.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, come here."

She made a grab for his arm but he pulled it back and she was about to launch into another argument about how he was acting like a five year old and she was the doctor and if he didn't let her give him the damn shot she was going to have Cisco restrain him again – and then she saw the look on his face.

He was scared. His eyes were shot wide and his mouth was set to an uneven line and he was trying not to look it but he was scared. It was not something she was used to seeing on his face, especially not in a medical environment. Sure, he didn't like being poked and prodded, but he never complained about the blood tests or the monitors – never really said anything except when she took the disinfectant out and even then it was dread and despondency, not fear. The words died on her tongue and her brow furrowed as she stopped abruptly.

"What's wrong?" she asked. When he didn't say anything she kept going. "Are they really that bad? The shots? I'm sorry, Barry, I know they hurt but –"

"No, it's not – I mean, they're bad but –" He shuddered and wiped his hands over his face. "I dunno. It's dumb. Just – OK – just do it." He looked sharply away and tensed, still fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Barry," Caitlin said. She had put the shot down. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said, but he kept stealing glances at the needle and he shuddered again. "OK – it's the shot. It just – it's freaking me out. I don't know – I just – after earlier – I – I guess I'm just really tired of being poked with things."

And then there the split second where all Caitlin could think was _oh my God I scarred him for life. He'll never do a blood test again. I've completely traumatized him._ And then she realized that her gaping was probably not helping the situation.

"OK, well, let's go really slow then," she said.

He cringed when she picked the needle up again and this, this was precisely the reason she did not become a standard physician, because she could not deal with that blank fear, that little cringe and she wanted nothing more but to put the needle right back down again.

She cleaned a spot on his arm and she reminded him not to tense up and to take deep breaths and Barry replied with a couple of curt comments that only seemed to key him up even more.

"Barry," she said, pausing, "It's not the stitches. It's just a shot."

"I know," he said.

"I know you know, but this isn't like that. It'll be over in a second. Hopefully you won't ever have to go through something like that again."

Barry was quiet, and then he shuddered again and his eyes flicked back to her. "Caitlin, you've gotta do it now – I can't – I can't do this, you have to just – just –"

Caitlin gave him the shot.

Barry sucked in a breath and yelled through his teeth, surprised and flustered. He smiled afterwards though, wrapping a hand around his arm.

"Thanks, Caitlin."

She gave him a tight smile. "Maybe we'll hold off on the blood tests for a few days."

He let out a long breath, but he smiled back. "Yeah, that would probably be a good idea."

**So, more soon - might be another run in with Captain Cold in his future - or maybe more stitches... not entirely sure yet but let me know what you think! Thanks for reading :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Alright, this one's longer - more on the way. Hope you like it :)**

**(By the way I'm not really good at developing relationships so i'm sorry in advance and also please tell me if I do anything really stupid so I can fix it and avoid said stupid thing in the future)**

**Note* Bella, that sounds like an awesome idea - i might try and incorporate it into this fic or I might make it a separate one but give me a while because I want to finish up some of the ones I already have before I start anything new - thanks so much for the suggestion!**

Caitlin gave him the OK to go home a few hours later, after thoroughly checking out all the wounds again. Barry called the station, told them he'd be back to work the next day. He still ached all over, but the cut on his shoulder was sealed up and the burns and frostbite were pretty much all healed. He was exhausted. He left Star labs and caught a cab because the prospect of running made his aching muscles scream in protest. When he got back to his apartment, he collapsed on his bed, falling asleep in his clothes.

He woke up screaming.

He was covered in sweat and his back was burning and all he could see were needles and string and his skin peeled back to show blood red muscle and white bone underneath. He jumped up, grabbing at a light and staring down at his hands. Skin. Normal skin. He was fine. He had to move, started walking, pacing, just to prove to himself that he _could_ move, that he wasn't stuck, helpless, like the nightmare had made him. He was shaking and pacing and he threw open the bathroom door to look at the mirror.

It was just him, looking back. No torn skin. No lacerations, no stitches. Just him. Barry started to calm down a little. At least, enough to walk back out, sit down, and force himself to breathe deep and even. He looked at the clock. He had only slept for a couple hours – it wasn't even seven o'clock yet.

His phone went off, and he spent a minute frantically shoving things out of the way, trying to find it amid crumpled papers and heaps of clothing. When he picked it up it was Caitlin.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Barry, Cisco and I are going out and I might just have a new mixture of flash poison to try so I was wondering if you wanted to go?"

"Umm," Barry said. He looked at the clock again, remembered that he had to go into work the next day, "Thanks, Caitlin, but I think I'll pass – I'm not feeling one hundred percent yet."

"Oh," she said, "everything alright?"

"Y-yeah," he said.

"Barry."

"I'm just not feeling great."

"What doesn't feel great?"

"It's fine, Caitlin, I just need some sleep."

"Barry, this is what happened the last time something was wrong. You said you were fine. Then you wound up with a fever at my house."

"I just had a nightmare, Caitlin – it's fine – just a little sore."

"Oh," she said, "OK."

"Yeah, so I'll see you tomorrow, alright," he said.

"OK – Bye."

"Bye."

He hung up, tossed his phone onto his bed, and grabbed a blanket to curl up on the couch with. He turned the TV on, hoping something halfway decent would be on.

It was maybe half an hour later that his doorbell rang. He looked up, half thinking he had imagined it, but finally got up and went to the door. He looked through the peep hole to see Caitlin waiting there.

He let out a half-exasperated half-amused sigh and opened the door.

"You didn't have to come over, Caitlin," he said.

"Well, I figured you could use some company," she said, walking past him. He closed the door and followed her inside.

"Apparently you also need a cleaning lady," she said, looking into his room.

Barry jumped around her and shut the door. "Hey," he said, "I wasn't expecting anyone over."

She plopped down on the couch. "So," she said, "what hurts?"

Barry cringed.

Caitlin rolled her eyes. "Don't look at me like that I don't have any shots or scalpels, I'm just asking a question.

"My back mostly," he said, "My arm a lot… my legs too."

"Basically all of you?"

"Yeah," Barry said, sitting down next to her, "I'm just kind of achy."

"Which arm is the one that hurts?"

Barry held up his left arm, the one closer to her. The stitches had been on his right side. Caitlin frowned and took it, then started pressing down on his bicep and around his elbow. Barry gasped.

Caitlin froze. "Did that hurt?"

"No – well, yeah but – it feels good," he said.

She gave him a funny look and kept going. The pressure kept sending little darts of pain up his arm followed by a soothing relief.

"You're so tense," she said, stopping. "You must have done it when I was putting in the stitches."

Barry thought about that, lying on the table, trying so hard to keep himself still. "Yeah that might have done it."

She took his hand and started working that with her fingers. It was all Barry could do not to moan.

Then she stopped. Looked up at him, eyes wide.

"Oh my God," she said, "you don't stretch, do you?"

For about a half second Barry wondered what the hell she was talking about, and then it clicked.

Oh. He didn't stretch before he ran.

"No," he said slowly.

"Oh, God," Caitlin said, "all this monitoring and we never – I can't believe we forgot about such a basic thing – I mean – the only reason you haven't gotten injured yet must be your cellular regeneration."

"Whoops," he said.

"Well, from now on, you need to stretch," she said. "Extensively. And at normal speed – at least, whenever possible."

Barry scrunched his nose. He didn't really feel like taking twenty minutes to stretch in order to use his speed to get somewhere in five seconds.

But then she started massaging his hand again and he about melted into a puddle.

"What did you have a nightmare about?" she asked.

Barry grimaced. He entertained the idea of lying, of brushing it off, but honestly, he was still a little freaked out, and Caitlin was pretty much the only person he could talk to about this, considering the only other person there had been Cisco.

"The stitches."

"Oh," she said.

"I just need to shake it off, just give me a couple days."

"You don't need to do anything, Barry," she said, "except relax and let yourself heal."

"I'm all tense, remember."

"Hmm," she said, "I've got an idea. Take off your shirt and lie down on your bed."

"Caitlin, didn't know you could be so forward."

"Oh shut up," she said, smacking him. Barry held up his arms in defense and moved back to his room, opening the door again.

"No making fun of the mess," he said, "I closed the door."

Caitlin looked around. "This is not a mess. This is a toxic waste zone."

"You're exaggerating," he said, huffing. He pushed a box under his bed with his foot.

Barry pulled off his shirt, hissing when he had to raise his arms to get it off. He sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting.

"Lie down," Caitlin said, gesturing with her hand.

Barry reclined backwards on his back.

"On your stomach."

Barry hesitated. "What are we doing?"

"Barry."

"I just… um…" All playful mocking was gone, and Barry was fidgeting, sitting up again. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

"It's like the surgery table?"

"Y-yeah."

"OK," she said. She sat down next to him and put a hand on his back. His skin felt ice cold to her, and Barry seemed to relax at her touch, just the slightest at least. By contrast, her hand felt warm to Barry.

"Do you trust me, Barry?" she asked.

Barry nodded slowly.

"Then lie down on your stomach. I promise, nothing is going to hurt you."

So Barry took a shaky breath and lay down, folding his hands up at his head and fidgeting.

Then Caitlin put her hands on his shoulders and _ohmygodohmygodohmygod._

Barry groaned as Caitlin rolled her palms over his shoulders, carefully avoiding the healing cut.

"Too hard?" she asked.

"No," he said, "that feels good. That feels _really_ good."

She worked her way up onto his shoulders and then down his sides and Barry was almost dozing when she hit a knot.

"God, Barry, your muscles are all screwed up, no wonder they hurt."

"Mmhmm."

"This might not feel so great at first."

Barry felt a hard pressure on his back and he held a breath as Caitlin moved down slowly. It hurt some. She was using her elbow, pressing into his back, but Barry didn't complain. The pain built up slowly but it was a good pain, like scratching an itch or stretching after waking up and then Caitlin let go and he could just feel the tension leaking out, the relief immense. He sighed.

Caitlin got rid of a few more knots and then worked back up to his neck. Her fingers got softer, gentler. She had finished getting most of the tension from his muscles and now she was just relaxing him. It felt amazing.

"You're going to be sore tomorrow."

"Mmmm."

"Are you paying attention to anything I'm saying?"

"Mmhmm."

"Yeah, OK, Barry."

At some point after that she stopped and it took Barry a couple of lazy minutes to realize that great feeling over his back was gone, and he flopped over on the bed.

Caitlin looked at him with half a grin. "You doing OK there, Barry."

"Mmmm." Barry smiled.

"You want me to do your legs?"

"God, yes."

She laughed and he turned over again. He was wearing thin pajama pants and yes, it would have been a little better if he weren't, but Caitlin was not about to tell him to take his pants off and have to deal with the onslaught of jokes that were sure to come from that. It was thin enough that it didn't get in the way. She moved up one leg and then the other and Barry made little contented noises. She worked out a few especially tightened spots and Barry gasped like he was in pain.

"Is that too deep?"

"No, keep going," he said.

When Caitlin finally stopped and moved around to the other side of the bed she thought he had fallen asleep. But his eyes opened with a lazy smile. "Why'd you stop?"

She ignored his question. "Better?"

"Yeah," he said, closing his eyes again. "A lot."

Caitlin walked out of the room, half expecting Barry to stay and sleep, but he got up and followed her instead. They sat down on the couch next to each other and Caitlin grabbed the blanket. His apartment was cold, and his skin was still icy. She handed one edge to him.

"Thanks," he said.

"No problem."

"No, I mean thanks, for that, and for everything else."

She smiled. "That's not a problem either, but you're welcome."

"When'd you learn to do that?"

"I'm certified."

"You're certified?"

"It's a long story."

They watched TV for a little bit, and Caitlin looked over at Barry, slouching.

"Do you want me to go so you can sleep?" she asked.

A flicker crossed his face. "No, you don't have to go."

"I won't be offended, Barry," she said.

The flicker was back. "No, stay."

"Is something wrong?"

"No."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"… No."

She stared at him.

He looked down, away. "Alright, I just don't… don't really want to be alone right now. Not yet. I don't know. It's dumb – I'm just… just tired and – if you have to go that's fine, I'll be fine it's just – if you don't, and you don't care, then, you know –"

"I'll stay," she said.

"Thanks, Caitlin."

LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

"Shit, I'm late, I'm late – oh shit, ow, OK, ow, that hurts."

That's what Caitlin heard as she woke up, slowly realizing she was sleeping on the couch at Barry's apartment. Barry was running around, grabbing shoes and his bag and throwing things in haphazardly. Caitlin looked at the clock. Seven fifty. She'd have to go back to her house to change, but it wasn't exactly like she had set hours at Star labs so it wasn't really a problem for her – she'd just call Wells and let him know she was going to be a little late. Barry, on the other hand was supposed to be at the station in ten minutes.

"You're taking a cab," she said as he ran into his room, shutting the door.

"Don't have time for a cab!"

"I'll drive you then."

Barry burst out again. He grabbed something from the fridge which ended up in his mouth.

"No time," he said around the food.

"You are not running yet," Caitlin said. She caught his arm as he ran by.

"The captain will kill me," he said.

"Then we'd better get down to my car."

LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Barry was thirty minutes late thanks to morning traffic. He _almost_ made it up the stairs without anyone noticing. Then again, he had a reputation about being late.

All in all it was probably worth the lecture from Singh. _Normal paced_ running had him cringing. He didn't really want to test out super speed running right then.

He was meeting Iris for lunch, at Jitters, and when he got there he grabbed a coffee and a sandwich, the little prewrapped ones, and sat down. Iris was out in a second.

"Hey," she said, then she squinted at him. "You look beat – what's up?"

He let out a dry laugh. "Rough week."

"Yeah, how's Caitlin doing? You ran off kind of fast there, Bar."

"Oh," he said, suddenly remembering how he had burst out the door from Iris, "Yeah, she's good. Sorry about that. I _was_ getting sick. I was out of work yesterday."

"Probably made yourself sick."

He smiled. "Maybe a little bit."

"You get to see her lately then?"

"Oh – yeah, she slept at my apartment last night."

He didn't realize what he had said until Iris had leaned back, a surprised, and happily amused look on her face.

"No," he said, "no – we fell asleep watching TV – it was not –"

"So, is that why you were late to work today?"

"How do you even know I was –"

"Eddie."

Barry groaned.

"You two would be cute together."

"No," Barry said, "you're not doing this."

"Doing what?"

"Your little set up thing."

"I'm not setting you up if you're already together."

"We're not."

"Is it really such a horrible prospect, being with Caitlin?"

Well no, not particularly. Barry's stomach twisted and he kind of wanted to take the opportunity to talk to Iris because maybe, just maybe his stomach had been twisting a lot lately around Caitlin but he wasn't really even sure of anything himself yet and he didn't want Iris's fangirling over the idea of them to cloud what he didn't even know if he felt yet or not.

"That's not the point," he said.

"Alright, alright, so she's good, then? What were you sick with anyway?"

He shrugged. "Flu maybe," he lied.

"Oh." She scrunched her nose again. "How do you feel then, you were only out one day."

He shrugged again. "Sore," he said. That was true anyway. The massage had helped get rid of most of the aches and the sharper pains but he was still sore all over.

"Well, I know this great masseuse –"

"Actually, Caitlin gave me a massage."

Iris raised an eyebrow, and yes, Barry had made a mistake once again.

"I was sick," he said quickly.

"Barry."

"I messed up my back."

Iris was grinning now.

"It _hurt_," he said. She started to giggle and Barry wanted to put his hand over her mouth. "Stop it."

"And you two just fell asleep on the couch, huh?"

"We were watching TV."

"Was that before, or after the mass-"

"I'm leaving," Barry said, getting up.

"Wait, Barry, I'm sorry, OK, I'll be serious, I promise."

"No," he said, already starting to walk away, "Because one, we both know you can't keep that promise, and two, Singh is going to have my head if I'm late back again."

"Alright, alright," she said, "But I expect updates."

Barry ignored her and walked out the door.

**(So that might be a bit cliche, the massage thing, but it fit and I don't know what i'm doing but I love them and let me know what you think thank you bye!)**

**Comments always appreciated :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Long one this time! So, kind of new stuff in this one - you'll have to tell me what you think of it, if i should do more or leave it - but anyway, WARNING: language - i'm not upping it to M because it's only once (and id really think language is a reason for M anyway but i like to be safe) but YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED - enjoy :)**

Barry was stretching the next day in the lab. Every time he tried to stop and walk to the treadmill Caitlin would yell and point and he was stretching again. He wouldn't have minded so much if it didn't hurt to move. Wells didn't want to skip a day on the treadmill when he was making such good progress, and Caitlin said it would be good for him as long as they started out slow. He figured he would have been fine by now but the pain was still lingering. Caitlin said it was to be expected, with how the infection and the frostbite over burns had put such a strain on his systems.

It was a strange feeling because he didn't really get sore anymore. His muscles recuperated too quickly. He had bruises, sure, but the ache of sore muscles was never really there, maybe every once in a while after some long training, but it was gone by morning. He couldn't say he exactly missed the feeling.

When Caitlin finally let him on the treadmill he was surprised by how quickly he tired, how no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get up to his top speeds. Cisco kept pushing for faster and Barry had to jump off the treadmill to avoid sliding right off, unable to keep up. He started getting frustrated with himself, pushing and pushing until Cisco was slowing the treadmill down to normal speeds. Barry looked up, only then realizing he was sweating and panting and a little light headed.

"Your vitals dropped," Caitlin said through the mic, "I think that's enough for today."

Barry frowned but he nodded, still a little frustrated, but suddenly happy to be done, tired. He walked back out to the main room and Caitlin wanted another blood sample and to look at the wound on his back and make sure everything was healed the way it was supposed to. She didn't make any distressing comments so Barry figured everything looked good.

When Cisco and Wells had left she finished detaching the monitors and then turned back to him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he said, "tired."

"The blood test was alright?" she asked hesitantly.

"Oh – yeah, it was fine. I'm fine."

"OK, good," Caitlin said, letting out a breath. At the same time Barry caught her arm. She frowned and looked while he turned it over, revealing purple-grey bruises along the inside.

"The explosion," she said.

"Right."

Caitlin smiled at him. "It's just a _bruise_, Barry, need I remind you about the extensive burns and frostbite you had."

"I heal," he said.

"So do I."

LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Barry woke up to his phone. His phone ringing _loudly_.

"Hello?"

"Dude, fifth avenue at the intersection with New street – we've got a meta who's got some sort of water power – he's breaking into Johnson Developments."

"Ugh," Barry said. He looked at the clock. So much for getting some rest, finally. "Be right there," he said.

A minute later and he was at the crime scene, watching as a man seemed to make icicles appear out of thin air, crystalizing all the water around him. He was steadily making his way towards the guards, who had open fired on him. Patches of ice materialized and the bullets him them instead, sending the bullet to the ground and the ice shattering. The man raised his hand, one of the icicles moving as he pointed it, and then unclenched his fist.

Barry had just enough time to speed over to the guard and grab him before the ice spear went straight through his throat. The man looked in confusion, until his eyes trained on Barry.

"Hey, how about we not impale people with icicles," Barry said.

The man's eyes were a crystal blue, his veins seeming to pop out from his skin and running a deep, almost navy blue color.

Barry saw his arm raise again, the smile quickly slid down his face, and then there was ice hurtling towards him.

He ran around, grabbed the other guard, and deposited him a safe distance away. "Guys," he said, "what do I do here?"

"Um, tie him up?" Cisco said.

"If you dry out the air, it should render him incapable of using his abilities," Wells said.

"Got it," Barry said. He sped back.

Barry ran in circles around the man, faster and faster, until he was sucking the air right out of the space. He saw the man falter, stop, and then Barry found himself running into a wall of water.

Water, not ice. At first, he was thankful, the water being much more forgiving than ice would have been, and then he realized that the water wasn't going anywhere.

Barry jumped to the side, tried to run, and the water was around his head, in a circle, covering his mouth and nose. He couldn't breathe, and if he couldn't breathe he couldn't run because he used too much oxygen. He pushed at the water with his hands, but it just melted around him, reformed. The man was laughing now. Barry fell to one knee, and then with all the energy he had left, dashed to the other side of the room.

Barry kneeled there, gasping, the water finally gone. The man had turned around again, facing him.

In the background, Barry heard sirens. The police were getting there.

The man was ignoring him though, going across the space where the guards had been stationed, quickly breaking the lock on a door. He went in, and reappeared a moment later. There was something in his hand, but Barry didn't catch what.

By then Barry was back on his feet, running back again. This time he was careful. The man shot ice daggers, made walls of water, made the moisture in the air and the water running in a fountain nearby his weapons. Barry kept trying to suck the air out again, to make a vortex like he had before, but the man kept surrounding himself with water and ice. Barry couldn't get around it all while still keeping his circle around him. He had finally had enough and was trying to get in a few shots at the guy. A couple of ice shatters hit him and he hissed. Freaking ice. Freaking cold. Really? Another one? He brought his fist back for a punch, but when he was just about to land it on the man, he struck ice instead. Barry screamed. He knew at least one finger was broken. He tried again, this time with a kick, getting behind him, going around him, but the ice turned up in every spot, almost like it was automatic, like the man wasn't even controlling it. Barry was just about to go in for another attempt at a punch, zooming around to the other side, when he saw a flash of opaque blue.

Pain exploded in his arm and Barry fell, rolled. He hadn't seen it until it was already slicing through his arm, an icicle, sticking straight out, right where he could run straight into it. He hadn't seen it, hadn't noticed it until the pain hit him. Barry was yelling, biting down, and he was gripping his shoulder and the man was walking away. Barry saw the police coming and he saw the man walking straight past them, bullets hitting those patches of ice. And then Barry looked at his arm.

_Oh, God,_ Barry thought. Shit. Shit, this was bad. There was blood practically pouring out of his arm, around his fingers, down his suit. It was gushing. It was gushing out of him. Barry felt his body go cold, and the pain was tearing through him, but it was numbed by the panic, by how much he wanted to throw up. His vision got shaky, and he had to force himself to focus. He was not going to pass out at the sight of blood. Granted, it was his blood, and _damn it, it was gushing out of him_, but he was not going to pass out.

"Barry?" The mic was mixed with static. "Barry, get back here right now, your vitals are dropping like crazy. Can you hear me? Barry?"

And then Barry was at Star labs, clutching his arm and spinning.

"Holy, Jesus Christ!" Cisco said. His eyes seemed to have expanded to be twice as large and his face had paled immediately.

"I need a bed – now!" Caitlin said. She was on him in a second, and although she was obviously shocked and distressed, she contained it better than Cisco, or maybe she was just focusing everything on the blood that Barry was rapidly losing.

"Cait –" Barry said. Caitlin was grabbing him, pulling him over to a bed. He felt himself sitting down, but he wasn't sure what was really happening. All Barry knew was his arm hurt like hell and there was _so much blood_ and it was _his_.

"Antiseptic and sutures, right now," Caitlin said. Wells came up behind her and Cisco was dashing around, putting everything on the tray next to her. Barry felt fingers on his arm, and _oh God, that hurt_.

"Cait –" he said again. There was an edge of panic to his voice.

"Lean back," Caitlin said. She was holding a towel hard to his arm and there was blood on her hands and Barry did what he was told, leaning back on the bed and shivering and he was _cold_.

Caitlin flashed a look at Cisco and then turned back to Barry. "Barry," she said, "this is going to hurt. Hold tight for me."

Barry didn't really have time to process it and then his arm was on fire, burning like it was doused in gasoline. He arched up and screamed, and hands came down on his shoulders, on his arms, even as he tried to thrash. He was breathing hard, way too hard, and his whole body was trembling, tingling with the pain and the shock of it.

"OK, that's done, Barry, that part's all done."

But then Barry looked over and he saw the needle and all he could think was _fuck no._

"Barry, easy, hey," Caitlin said as he bolted upward, struggling to sit up.

"No," he said, "Caitlin, no – no."

"I have to, Barry," Caitlin said, "lie back, you need to do this."

"No," he said, "Caitlin, don't – don't!"

He was struggling and Cisco was pushing him down and now Wells had a vice like grip on his arm, holding it steady. Barry could see Caitlin with the needle and no, he couldn't do this, he couldn't do this again, he needed it to stop, he needed it to stop right now.

He felt the needle slide through his skin and he screamed, and then he was back on that table and he had to keep still, he had to keep still and it hurt too much but he had to stay in control and now he was not in control and it was every bit as absolutely unbearable and intolerable and excruciatingly terrifying as he thought it would be.

"Shhh, shhh, it's alright Barry, it's alright," Caitlin said, but she was making another stitch and the pain was awful and Barry couldn't do this.

"You have to stop," he said. His voice was cracking all over the place, breaking and splitting apart, "Please, Caitlin, stop. Stop, it hurts – it hurts!" His voice broke off into a cry as she pushed the needle through his skin.

Caitlin's stomach tightened into a knot and she had to look at the wound, at the skin, at the blood, at all the blood. It didn't make her sick, it grounded her, gave her a reason, and she needed a damn good reason to be putting Barry through this.

The blood was starting to clot, it wasn't pushing out so rapidly anymore. The fact that he wasn't unconscious meant his body was regenerating blood cells at a rate that would make the blood loss much less severe than it appeared to be. Caitlin kept going, and it was taking all of her self-control and if she thought listening to Barry's broken cries of pain before had been bad she had never considered him begging her to stop.

"Just a couple more," Caitlin said. She swiped a hand over Barry's forehead, pushed the sweaty hair off his face. "It's OK." She put in another stitch and Barry turned his face away, his breathing harsh. "It's not like last time," Caitlin said, "I'm almost done, it's not nearly as large. It's deeper, but it's not as long – it doesn't need as many, I'm almost done." She wasn't sure if Barry was listening anymore but she had to say it, had to say something to try and reassure him.

When she finally got the last stitch in and tied it off she felt like she could breathe again. "All done," she said, her hands going up to his shoulder. She grabbed a wet cloth and started wiping away the blood. "All done with them." Barry didn't say anything. His eyes were pressed so tight it looked like he had to be causing himself more pain, and his teeth were locked in an awful cringe.

Caitlin wiped up the blood, cleaning over the wound as gently as possible. It didn't stop the harsh breaths and little gasps coming from Barry's mouth. She had set bones and popped in shoulders and stabbed him in the chest with a needle and never gotten this bad of a reaction. Hell, she had pried off a melted suit from his skin.

"Barry," Caitlin said, and she dreaded this, "This is going to hurt again, OK? Only for a second, I promise."

And his eyes were open again in an instant, wide with fear, with panic. "Cait – no – please!" His voice escalated and Caitlin wiped the disinfectant over his arm and he screamed and then collapsed back onto the bed, his whole body tense and shaking.

"Done," Caitlin said, and she through the supplies back on the cart, desperate. She had her hands against his arm, his face, his forehead, and he was flinching from her. "It's all done, Barry. It's OK." She wrapped up the wound and cleaned off more blood, wiping it from the materials and the bed as best she could.

"I'm going to go sterilize all this," Wells said quietly, and took the medical equipment from her.

"I'm going to get another bed ready for him," Cisco said, "with less blood. And maybe go puke while I'm at it."

Barry was still breathing hard and shallow, his face tight with pain. He started to fidget, to squirm. He dragged in a breath.

"Barry," Caitlin said, "hey, Barry, it's over."

It took him about five minutes before he opened his eyes again. He looked lost, then he held up his opposite hand.

"Broke my hand," he said. His voice was raw and Caitlin sucked in a breath. More?

She took it gently and he winced. She probed around his fingers, and pushed one into place. He sucked in a breath. "Just two," she said. She got a splint set up, and left them to heal, then she was back at his side.

"You OK?" she asked.

Barry leaned over and puked.

Fortunately, Caitlin had been ready this time with a bucket.

"I'm going to take that as a no," she said.

That almost got her a laugh, and Caitlin relaxed a little bit at that.

"I know it hurts a lot," she said, "But you're going to be OK."

Barry nodded. He was going to be OK. He was still shaking. His arm hurt like hell. He couldn't get the feeling of that needle in his skin out of his head. He couldn't stop the horrible, piercing fear of having been held down against his will while someone pushed needles through his skin, doused him with burning antiseptic. He knew it was Caitlin and Cisco and Wells and he knew it was for his health and he knew he had been injured and in pain and that they had to make the decision for him to keep him alive, but it didn't stop the terror and the feeling of helplessness and lack of control from overwhelming him.

"I never want to do that again," he said.

"For the record, neither do I."

Barry took in another shaky breath. "I want to go home."

"Just let me –"

"No, I want to go home _now_." His voice wavered again and he couldn't stay here. He felt the panic in his blood, and he needed to go home, to get away from this place.

Caitlin just looked at him. "OK," she said softly. "OK. I'll get my bag, and tell Wells and Cisco."

And Barry just nodded with a surge of relief, trying to hide how close he was to crying just at the knowledge that he'll be able to go home, that they'll let him do that.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

They took Caitlin's car. There was no way in hell Barry was running.

Barry had his head tilting onto the window, staring outside. His expression was flat, eyes vacant. His hands still trembled on and off. Caitlin drove in silence, stealing glances over at Barry. He looked beat, defeated. His hand was swollen with the splint and the white bandages made his shirt fit tight around him and there were a couple small cuts on his face, one under his eye and another on his chin that hadn't disappeared yet.

The window was cold on Barry's forehead but he didn't move it. He was freezing but his face felt hot. He watched the streets go by, the blazing lights in the dark. It helped him calm down a little, the steady rumble of the engine and Caitlin's soft silence, the buildings blurring by. When they reached his apartment he had to force himself up. Caitlin got out alongside him.

"You don't have to come," he said, "I'll be alright on my own."

Caitlin just scoffed and strode on ahead of him. Barry sighed and followed her.

The first thing Barry did when they got inside was collapse on the couch, closing his eyes again. His arm burned a little, complaining at the movement. He touched the bandages through his shirt.

"Don't play with it," Caitlin said, knocking his hand away. She had his comforter in her arms, along with his pillow, and Barry hadn't realized she'd gone past him into his room until then.

She dumped the stuff on top of him and Barry had to wade through the blankets before he could see again.

"You keep shivering," she said, "do you have stuff for hot chocolate?"

Barry nodded and she went off to the kitchen. Barry could hear her tearing it apart.

Barry sank into the blankets and the couch. His body felt cold, wrong. Like the cold you get when you're sick, you're body overheating while you just feel frozen. He pushed himself into the corner, drawing his knees up to his chest and not caring if he looked like a five year old while he did it because the blanket covered all of him anyway.

Caitlin came back with two cups of hot chocolate and Barry took his, grateful.

"Barry," Caitlin said, and as soon as he heard that tone he pushed away from her, muscles tensing, eyes frozen. Caitlin took a deep breath. "There is one more thing I have to do."

Barry felt like he was going to explode, another, another thing? Wasn't that enough for today? Couldn't he catch a break for once?

"It's a tetanus shot," Caitlin said.

"No."

"Barry –"

"No," he said, "no more shots."

"I don't want to have to put you through another round of antibiotics, Barry," Caitlin said, and her face broke, "it's just a tetanus shot – it would be as painful as the antibiotic ones, and it's just one, and it'll hopefully prevent infection before it starts. You had cuts from ice, Barry, and I don't know what that will do to your systems."

Barry had broken out into a cold sweat. He was shrinking in on himself, not saying anything.

But Caitlin stayed, and no amount of shrinking away was going to change the reality of her being there and him needing the stupid shot. Didn't mean he wasn't going to procrastinate like hell.

"Come on, Barry," Caitlin said, "I waited 'till now. We have to get it done."

Barry didn't move and Caitlin sighed. She peeled back the comforter, and reached into her bag for the shot. When she looked up again the blanket was back.

"Barry," Caitlin said.

His face crumpled.

"Do you want to go through another round of antibiotics?" she asked.

"No," he said.

"Then get over here."

Barry played with the edge of the blanket, slowly started to move it down, exposing his arm.

"I need the other one, Barry."

"But that'll hurt," he said, looking at the bandages poking out from under his T-shirt.

"I know, but it'll also help it better."

"Caitlin."

"Come on, Barry."

Barry's heart was pounding. He shifted over a little bit, put the mug of hot chocolate down slowly, but then he looked up, saw the needle, and panicked.

He was standing up, staring. "No – Caitlin, I can't. I'll just – I'll wait and see what happens – do the antibiotics if I have to."

"Barry," Caitlin said, "you're not thinking about this. This will only take a second."

"No," he said, "I'm not doing it, Caitlin. I'll deal with the consequences later." His voice had gone hard, but his heart was still pounding, his breath catching and rasping, and he couldn't move and she was stitching and the needle and the thread and the pain and _nonononono_–

"Barry," Caitlin said, "hey, it's OK. It's alright."

Barry stared and Caitlin was holding his arms and when did that happen? He was shaking and she was drawing him down, back to the couch.

"It's OK," she said, "It's not the stitches. It's not the antibiotics. It's just a tetanus booster. It's just a regular, normal tetanus shot."

And Barry was nodding and then there was a stab of pain and he couldn't breathe. She was stitching into him, threading needle, sewing up his skin like it was just a tear in a jacket or a shirt.

"Shh," she said, "it's OK. It's done." And it wasn't until then that Barry looked over and saw the shot and realized what had happened. She was not stitching him up, the pain he felt was not a wound, was not skin filled with holes and thread, was just a little shot, one that he had gotten at ten years old and again at twenty and see, he was fine.

"Sorry," he said, finally getting his breathing back to normal. He put his elbows on his knees and hung his head down, trying to grab back to reality. "Sorry – I panicked. I don't know what happened. Sorry."

"Shhh," she said and she was rubbing his back, "it's alright. You don't need to apologize. You were just scared."

Just scared, just scared. Barry's face heated up. Just acting like a five year old in a doctor's office again, just practically running away from a shot.

But he was still shaking and seeing the needles, the thread. He could feel their hands on him, holding him down and Caitlin's voice in the background and screaming, begging them to stop because it hurt and he was scared and Caitlin had gone into Doctor mode and he needed her to just be Caitlin, to just be Caitlin Snow and look at him and rub circles on the back of his hand until he knew it would be alright.

"Hey," Caitlin said, "what's going on?"

Barry wiped a hand over his face and sat back up. "Nothing," he said, "Sorry, I just – I…"

Caitlin reached up and put a hand to his face, cupping the side of it. Her face twisted a little, watching him.

"I just…" he tried again, but he looked down. He didn't know what he was going to say anyway. "Never mind," he mumbled.

"No," she said, "you're thinking something. You're thinking too much."

"I…" he trailed off again. He was shaking and his head was spinning. Everything was spinning. It was too much in too little time and he didn't know how to process everything that had happened. He was exhausted but the idea of sleep made him nauseous and he didn't want to be alone but to have someone there was embarrassing. He needed to talk but didn't know what to say. He was just shaking and silent and a complete mess, a total mess.

Caitlin leaned forward and hugged him. It caught Barry off guard and he was stiff before relaxing. Caitlin's arms were around him and he melted against her, his head on her shoulder and his eyes squeezed shut. She rubbed a hand across his back over and over again and Barry held onto her like he'd fall if he didn't. She didn't say anything, let him sit in silence and know that someone was there, that he wasn't alone. It cleared his head a little bit, the simple fact of human contact grounding him. The spinning thoughts slowed down and he concentrated on there, on now. He could smell her perfume and her sweater was soft and she was still moving circles on his back, soothing. He was wrapped up in the blanket and he wasn't so cold anymore, not shivering. He stopped shaking and the stillness was a relief. He pressed his forehead into her shoulder and he could feel her chin on his and he relaxed.

He finally leaned back again and Caitlin followed. Her expression was questioning and she didn't let go of him, had her hand on his arm like she was afraid she'd lose him again if she let go.

"Hey," she said, "it's OK. It's done."

Barry nodded. His mouth was dry. "It hurt a lot," he said finally.

"I'm so sorry, Barry," Caitlin said and her eyes closed and she was, she was so, so sorry she had to do that to him.

"It's not your fault," he said, "mine for getting my arm cut in half."

She smiled and moved her hand lightly over the bandage. "Don't do it again," she said.

Barry huffed. "Trust me, it is pretty much a top priority now."

She laughed and looked back at him. "How's it feel?"

"Hurts."

"A lot still?"

"A lot." Barry looked down. He could lie, but it was throbbing. A lot better than before, but still very painful.

"It was really deep, it'll take some time to heal."

"How much blood did I lose?"

"Too much."

"It freaked me out."

"Freaked me out too."

"No, you were fine," he said, "I saw you – you still did everything."

"It's harder with someone you care about." And someone who was screaming in pain and begging you to stop.

Barry was quiet for a little bit. "I think we traumatized Cisco."

Caitlin laughed. "There was a lot of blood."

Barry let out a long breath.

Caitlin tilted her head. "How are you feeling, Barry?"

"Not great," he said, grudgingly. He looked at his hands.

"Maybe you should try and sleep."

"I don't think I can," he said quietly.

"I'll stay with you."

"You don't have to do that."

"I thought we already established that I don't care if I have to do it or not."

"Thought I'd give you a way out."

"I don't want a way out."

"You're sure it's not a problem?"

"Positive."

"Alright," Barry said softly. "Is it alright… I don't really fit on the couch. But could you… I'm going to lie down in bed, but, is that OK? I'm making this weird, it shouldn't be weird – it's just I'm tired and I won't be able to sleep and if it's OK – I mean unless that makes you uncomfortable, which would be totally –"

"Barry," Caitlin said, "go get in bed."

"OK," Barry said, his face flushing. He got up, grabbed some clothes from one of the numerous piles in his room, and disappeared into the bathroom. When he came back out Caitlin was wearing one of his pairs of sweatpants and his Star labs sweatshirt.

"I borrowed some clothes," she said, pulling the sweatshirt down. It was significantly large on her.

"That's fine," he said.

"You know, one's I managed to find in an actual _drawer_."

"I thought we established you're not allowed to make fun of my room," Barry said.

"Toxic waste zone," Caitlin muttered.

Barry went and laid down on one side of the bed, pushing himself under the blankets. Caitlin propped herself up next to him with pillows.

"You really don't have to stay," he said, "I mean, if I fall asleep and you –"

"I have to wake you up in a couple hours to take the stitches out anyway," Caitlin said.

"Oh," Barry said, but he tensed up again. Right the stitches, which were still in him. Which she'd have to take out. Barry felt cold all over again.

"Hey," she said, shaking his shoulder, "It's alright – doesn't hurt, remember? Only takes a minute. You'll feel better after you get some sleep, anyway."

"Yeah, OK," he said. He tried to get comfortable in the bed, close his eyes. Caitlin had shut off the light. He kept fidgeting though. Every time he tried to relax the events of the day came crashing back and he had to open his eyes to reassure himself that he really was back in his apartment, not at Star labs on some med station.

"Relax," Caitlin said, rubbing his shoulder again.

Barry tried to laugh. "Can't really seem to do that."

"Take some deep breaths," Caitlin said.

Barry tried, but it wasn't helping. "Could you…" he started, "could you just… talk to me?"

"About what?"

"Anything."

Caitlin thought for a second. "OK." She launched into a story about her first bio class in college, recounting the professor and the room in terrible detail. It wasn't a terribly interesting story, but Caitlin knew that – she was just talking to fill the silence, and it worked in the end. After a few minutes Barry wasn't listening to what she was saying, just the soothing tone of her voice, and soon his body finally gave in to the exhaustion riddling his bones.

**So, icicle dude, good? bad? Please tell me - i have an idea for another metahuman too but haven't decided if it's worth it to bring him in or not, so please let me know if you like the little fight scene/new metahuman things or if i should just stick to the more behind the scenes, recovery, conversation, fluff stuff (id really know what to call it, just the stuff i've already been doing) Thank you all!**


	7. Chapter 7

**New metahuman! I like this one! WARNING, once again, not upping to M because this is very, very mild, but there is a distinct sexual reference in this one - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED **

Caitlin shook him awake gently. Barry nuzzled into the pillow more, tried to shrug off the annoying hand.

"Barry," Caitlin said.

"Mngh."

"I need you to sit up, Bar."

Barry pushed farther under the blankets.

"Oh, for God's sake, Barry." Caitlin pulled the blankets back and Barry whined, opened his eyes and blinked at Caitlin. She had turned the light back on.

"Whaaat?" he said, reaching for the blanket again.

"I need to take the stitches out," she said, "unless you'd like to keep them."

"Uhgg." Barry sat up a bit, turned so Caitlin could get at the wound. She unwrapped it carefully.

"You might not want to look," Caitlin said. Barry turned his head to the other side.

She started pulling the stitches out. They came away easily, nice and clean. He didn't feel the thread as much this time, but his arm was still very sore. Even if the skin had healed together, not everything inside his arm was completely fixed yet.

"No infection this time?" he asked nervously.

"No," Caitlin said, "It all looks good. Give it a day and you'll be right back to normal."

Barry glanced over when Caitlin had finished. His skin was all pink and glassy looking around the wound, which was a sharp line on his skin. He moved his arm a little experimentally. Now that the stitches were gone it was a bit easier.

"Thanks," he said, and then he disappeared under the blankets again. Caitlin sighed.

LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Barry was back to running normally, everything finally healed. He was sitting in Star labs while Wells and Cisco showed him a string of robberies that had popped up, with some very odd characteristics.

It looked a lot like the guy who could make people angry, the one that had Barry almost killing Eddie and fighting Oliver. They were looking at surveillance footage from the last robbery, a gas station.

"There's the guy," Cisco said, pointing to a man in a black sweatshirt, the hood pulled up.

"Now watch, the register," Wells said. Barry and Caitlin watched the screen as the customer paying and the employee seemed to be getting into a fight. Then suddenly the employee had his hands wrapped around the person's throat, lunging over the table and crashing onto the floor on top of him. A couple people in the store, backed away, one man tried to help. The man in the black sweatshirt turned and looked, but didn't move.

"Now it gets interesting," Cisco said.

It looked like the guy was trying to apologize.

"What is he doing?" Caitlin asked.

"Oh, it gets better."

As a couple of people helped the injured man to his feet the employee sunk to his knees. Barry watched in increasing confusion. It practically looked like he was begging with the guy. Then, all of a sudden, one of the onlookers punched him in the face, and then proceeded to tackle him to the ground. A lady in the background began hysterically crying, and another man ran from the scene at full burst.

"Now, the guy in the hoodie," Cisco said, pointing. It was only at this point that he went up to the cash register, and calmly took all the money in it and put it into a bag.

"Whoa," Barry said.

"It's the fourth robbery like this in two weeks," Cisco said, "unfortunately, no image of his face."

"So what's his power?" Barry said, standing back up straight. He looked from Wells to Cisco.

"We think he can cause people's emotions to change rapidly between anger and fear," Wells said.

"Problem is, this doesn't usually come up on a police scanner until the guy is gone. He disappears pretty well. No one's really paying attention to him," Cisco said, "luckily, since I'm the resident genius," Caitlin snorted, "I came up with an algorithm that might be able to help."

"How does it work?" Barry asked.

"Well," Cisco said, typing something in to the computer, "It doesn't look like the guy has to make eye contact, like the other meta, in order to use his power, so I was wondering if he maybe doesn't have total control over it, since he was waiting around in the store for a while before hitting the guy at the register. So I set up a program looking for unusual arrests."

"Unfortunatly, that didn't come up with anything concrete," Wells said.

"So I widened it," Cisco continued, "to include hospital visits, deaths, change in housing, and what came up –"

He pressed a button and the name of an apartment building appeared.

"Two suicides, a homicide, four arrests, and seven admittances to the psychiatric ward of a hospital."

"Whoa," Caitlin said.

"All within the last two weeks," Wells said, "and all the people living in one residence."

"So we know where he lives," Barry said, "That's great, but how do we know who he is?"

"That's where we got stuck," Wells said.

"I'm thinking go door to door," Cisco said, "pretend to sell phones or something – wait until someone makes one of us want to kill the other."

"Did you miss the suicide and homicide part of that report?" Caitlin asked.

"Well, then there's that," Cisco said.

"Can you bring up a floorplan of the building?" Barry asked.

"Yeah, just one sec."

A 3-D model came up.

"Alright, now which rooms were the people from those reports in."

"Uhh…" Cisco looked up the data and synchronized it. Several rooms on the model lit up.

"Bingo," Wells said.

"Zoom in," Barry said. Cisco enlarged the image of the model.

There was a cluster around room 212, the rooms above, below, and to the sides of it being one ones affected. All of the reports seem to have come from that area, and the only one untouched in the very center of it was room 212.

"Cisco, who lives in room 212?" Wells asked.

"Uhmm… David Johnson," he said, "Thirty-two, lives alone, works at the steel plant just outside the city."

"Looks like our guy," Wells said.

"Do we have a containment chamber that will hold him?" Barry asked.

"The chambers should be good already," Cisco said, "but we can run some tests – stick him in the middle of the particle accelerator if we have to, where he'll be out of range."

"Alright," Barry said, and a second later he was in the suit, "let's go get him."

"Hold on," Caitlin said, "how are we going to protect you from being affected."

Barry shrugged, looked at Cisco. "You said you think it takes some time, right? So I just won't give him time. Get the chamber open, and I'll be back in ten seconds."

Cisco looked at Wells, he shrugged.

"The effects ware off within a few hours," Wells said, "so there isn't any risk of permanent damage."

"Easy," Barry said, "Get the chamber open, tell me when you're ready."

LLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

About five minutes later David Johnson was safely locked away. Caitlin, Wells, and Cisco stayed out of range, just in case, but as Barry went up to the main room, he felt fine. In fact, he felt good. He caught another meta, and it was one of the easiest catches yet. He had just grabbed the guy and ran. Done. Just like that. He walked into the room.

"How do you feel?" Caitlin asked, immediately going up to him, dragging him over for tests. He was already out of the Flash suit, back in normal clothes.

He smiled. "Fine," he said.

"Alright, let me take a blood sample," Caitlin said. Barry sat down at the bed.

"Well, that was an easy one," Cisco said, "that almost seems anticlimactic."

"You should call him Fight or Flight," Barry said, eyes popping wide, "oh, that's a good one, fight or flight, you know – the anger or fear thing."

"I like it," Cisco said, "but he's not much of a villain."

"No, that was way too easy," Barry said, "not exciting at all. You should find another one for me – that one was awesome, I mean the look on his face when he was in a cell, it was great."

Caitlin was giving him an odd look but he was just smiling, almost bouncing.

"You still feeling OK?" Caitlin asked.

"Yeah, I feel great," Barry said, "It's been a great day, actually. We caught a guy at the station and closed a case, and I was even on time today. And then I got to come here and we caught another meta, and Joe's making spaghetti. I _love_ spaghetti, I'll probably have to eat a lot of it, though, huh, I wonder how much, hey Cisco how much spaghetti do I have to eat for that run I just did, probably a lot, huh, I love spaghetti – ooh but fried chicken's my favorite – Joe makes the best fried chicken – not as good as Mary's, but don't tell him I said that, he'd be upset. I hate making him upset, he's so serious too much, especially now, and –"

"Barry," Caitlin said slowly. "Are you sure you're feeling OK?"

Wells, Cisco, and Caitlin were all staring at him. He was grinning, tapping his foot, looking at all of them.

"Yeah," he said, "I feel great. We got a meta. Whooohoo!"

"OK," Caitlin said, "I'm just gonna test this." She shot a look at the other two.

"Barry," Wells said.

"Yeah?" he said. He was still grinning.

"Do you remember anything weird happening when you were with Johnson."

"Nope," he said, "all according to plan – right in, right out."

"Nothing weird at all?" Wells repeated.

"Nope," he said, then his eyes widened suddenly, "do you have any cream soda? I really want cream soda all of a sudden. That's so weird. I love cream soda."

"So it makes him act like he's drunk?" Cisco said, turning to Wells.

Well's just grimaced.

"Oooh, or lemonade, I really love lemonade."

"And obsess over food," Cisco added.

"One time I spilled lemonade in the car," Barry said. His expression changed suddenly, going somber. "Joe got really mad. It made a mess."

"Yeah, there's something not right here," Caitlin said from her station across the room.

"No kidding," Cisco said.

"Barry?" Wells said carefully. Cisco looked over to find him now completely silent. Barry was looking at the floor, his eyes lost but darting, like he was thinking about something. He was gripping his hands together. He had an almost worried expression on his face.

"He was really mad," Barry said, almost in a whisper. He looked up at Wells.  
>"I'm sure it was OK, Barry," Wells said.<p>

Barry shook his head. "I think I left the TV on," Barry said, all in the same quiet voice. "He hates it when I leave the TV on. I'm pretty sure I left it on. Oh, God, I know I left it on, I have to go."

Barry stood up but Cisco quickly got in his way just as both he and Wells quickly repeated "no" several times.

"It's alright, buddy, I'm sure you didn't leave it on," Cisco said.

"I think I did," Barry said. He was looking intently at Cisco, his whole face screwed up. "He's going to be mad. Do you think he'll kick me out? I can get another apartment, but I like living there. He'll probably stop talking to me. Maybe he'll tell the captain."

"Barry, I really don't think he'd tell the captain that you left the TV on," Cisco said.

"Get out of my way," Barry said. His expression was changing again.

"Whoa, let's just stay calm," Cisco said, suddenly backing away a little bit. "Barry, hey, calm, remember, really calm."

Barry started walking towards him. "You always get in the way," he said, "why are you always in the way, Cisco?"

"Barry –" Wells said.

Barry suddenly turned, "And you – I'm so sick of you, the great Doctor Wells, but you let the particle accelerator blow up – you could have saved them! Hartley told you, but you wouldn't listen? Do you have any idea how many people could still be alive!"

"I do, Barry, but I really think you should try and ca-"

"Why does everyone keep telling me to calm down!" Barry yelled. He spun around again. "I'm perfectly calm," he said, "I'm absolutely," he kicked a chair out of his way, "completely," knocked a stack of papers off a table, "calm." Smashed a fist down on a tablet, breaking it to pieces.

"OK, Barry, you're calm, we've got it," Wells said. Caitlin was just staring now. "Do you know how to reverse it?" he asked quickly. "I don't think you can reverse it," Caitlin said.

"Great," Cisco said, his voice a little bit higher than usual.

"Barry?" Wells said.

Barry was staring at his hand. He started to shake. Caitlin and Cisco approached cautiously. Wells moved around him.

"Everything alright, Barry?" Wells asked.

Barry made a sobbing noise. Cisco and Caitlin exchanged a look. Then Barry snapped up, holding out his hand at Wells, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

"I – I cut myself," he said. There was glass in his hand from the tablet, blood already smearing across. "I-i-it hurts," he said, sniffing. He was shaking badly now, gripping his wrist with his good hand.

"Let me see, Barry," Caitlin said, taking his hand gently. Barry followed her over to a bed. She turned a head and whispered at Cisco, "Get the restraints." Cisco was gone in a second.

Barry was shaking and sniffling on the bed, holding his hand.

"Let me see," Caitlin said. Barry let her take his hand but when she reached with a pair of tweezers he jerked it away.

"D-don't touch," he said, his eyes blowing wide with fear.

"I've just got to get the glass out," Caitlin said carefully. She took his hand again, carefully pried out a couple pieces. Barry cried out, tears running down his face.

"It hurts, Caitlin," he said.

"I know, almost done," she said.

Hi eyes widened. "Are you – are you go-going to…"

Caitlin looked at him, "Oh, Barry, we can wait a little bit for that." She looked at where Cisco had the restraints, carefully coming up to them.

"Oh, OK," Barry said. He leaned back. "good – good, thanks. I hate that. I really hate the disinfectant. But – later, OK." He started to relax. Caitlin rubbed his arm. "That's nice," he said. He closed his eyes, was lying entirely back on the bed. Caitlin put down his hand, gestured to Cisco. She tied one end to the bed, started carefully wrapping the other around one arm.

"Mhhmm, what's that?" Barry asked. His voice was drowsy, almost sing-song like.

"Just something to keep you safe," Caitlin said. She pushed back his hair one more time and he murmured something. Cisco got the other one on his arm, and then they strapped two to his legs. Caitlin breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey, Caitlin," Barry said. He was smiling again now, but his eyes were still closed.

"Yeah, Barry?"

"I really liked it when you gave me that massage."

Caitlin's face flushed and Cisco looked up at her abruptly.

"Yeah, you were hurt," Caitlin mumbled, ignoring the look she was getting.

"It was really nice."

Cisco started to snicker.

"Ahuh," Caitlin said. She tightened the one on his arm, checked the others.

"You're always so _nice_, Caitlin."

Cisco burst out laughing and Caitlin shot him a look, but Cisco was shaking his head, and then he was pointing.

"Well that's interesting," Wells said.

Caitlin looked down.

There was a quite distinct bulge in his jeans.

Caitlin's face turned bright red faster than she thought possible, and she gave out something like a yelp. She spun, grabbed a sweatshirt, and dropped it on him. Barry didn't seem to notice. He still had his eyes closed, smiling. Cisco was still laughing hysterically.

Alright, Caitlin had enough. She pulled out the disinfectant and poured it over Barry's hand.

Barry yelped, and then that turned into desperate jerks of his arm, trying to pull away.

"Caitlin," Barry said, and now his voice had taken on a completely different tone, absolutely panicked. He was hyperventilating in a second, and then he was thrashing around, trying to pull away.

"_Nonononononono," _Barry yelled, his voice escalating, going shrill and sharp, "Stop – don't – don't please, I don't want stitches, please, please don't – it's going to hurt, it's going to hurt!" He was sobbing hysterically, still pulling against the restraints.

Caitlin felt horrible, a swarm of guilt back. She had hurt him just to get over her own embarrassment and now she felt absolutely awful at the result. She felt like absolute trash, and she quickly took Barry's good hand in hers, rubbing his shoulder again.

"It's OK, Barry, no stitches, I'm not doing anything. You're OK."

"No," he said, and he flinched away from her, pulled away. "Stop, I don't want it – don't do it, please – please let me go, let me go!"

Caitlin looked helplessly at Wells. Cisco was grimacing now, all laughter gone. Wells just shook his head. "We just have to let him wait it out."

Barry was hyperventilating fast, and then suddenly he went limp. For a split second Caitlin absolutely panicked, and then she saw the rise and fall of his breath and realized what happened.

"He made himself pass out," she said, "he was breathing so hard, he actually passed out."

"Panic attacks," Wells said, "It's not exactly uncommon."

Caitlin just sat there. "What do we do?" she asked.

"Let him ride it out," Wells said, "there doesn't seem to be much else we can do."

Caitlin looked back at Barry. She had a bad feeling she was not going to enjoy the next couple hours.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Barry rubbed his head. "Ooohh, what happened," he said. He pushed both fists against his head, elbows on his knees. The world was spinning.

"You got whammied," Cisco said, handing him a water bottle, "Again."

"Why does everything hurt?" he asked, taking it. Even his throat felt raw.

"Well, this time it was a little different."

The memories were coming back to him. Barry squinted.

"What do you remember?" Caitlin asked.

Barry pressed a hand into his head again. "Um… I got the guy… we locked him up. Then I came up here. And then… something about lemonade?"

"Yeah, so the guy can do a lot more than make you angry or afraid," Cisco said.

"More like every emotion," Caitlin said.

Barry frowned. "I was happy," he said, "giddy, happy – and then… I was afraid I left the TV on?"

"Yeah," Cisco said, "Then you almost killed us."

"Uh," Barry said, trying to remember. It was coming back in pieces as the pain in his head cleared. "I yelled at Wells, didn't I? Did I…" He looked down at his hand. The bandage was gone. "Did I hit something?"

"A tablet," Cisco said, "My favorite one, too."

"Just a tablet?" Barry said, looking at his hand, "All I remember was it hurt _a lot_, like agonizing."

"Yeah, you cried like a baby," Cisco said flatly.

Barry's face heated up, "I did?"

"Sobbing," Cisco said, "then you got ah… you got _really_ happy." Cisco smirked around the lollipop in his mouth.

Barry just frowned, confused, and that was when Caitlin chose to leave the room. "I don't… did I fall asleep?"

"Oh, no," Cisco said.

Then the memory came back to him, all at once. Barry's face went bright red.

Cisco laughed again and Barry buried his face in his hands and groaned.

"Oh it was good," Cisco said. "Don't worry, Caitlin poured disinfectant on your hand and that pretty much ended that right there."

Barry's expression changed again. "_That_, I remember," he said. Blind panic. He shuddered. He closed his eyes. "Do I even want to know what happened the rest of the night?"

"Well, we learned about your hatred for reality TV, got a _very_ detailed description of a past girlfriend, witnessed another couple panic attacks, and I'm pretty sure you threatened to kill me at least twice."

Barry groaned.

"You also got really depressive at one point," Cisco said, and he frowned, "like really, _really_ depressive."

Barry thought for a little bit and then suddenly his face went pale. He looked up at Cisco, his features twisted. "Did I…" he paused, his voice dropping, "did I try and kill myself?"

"Let's just say it was a good think you were restrained," Cisco said.

"Oh, man," Barry said. He ran his hands through his hair. The words were coming back to him, what he said, but the worst part was the feeling, because he _remembered_ it. He remembered the absolute despair, the worthlessness, he had felt. He tried to push it out of his memory all together. He never wanted to recall it again.

"Yeah. You kind of traumatized Caitlin."

"Oh, God."

"On the bright side, you also complimented her a lot," Cisco said, "and you're really funny when you're jealous. Adrian Brown?"

Barry pushed his face into his hands again. "Uh," he said.

Cisco laughed. "Yeah, I mean the girl, _and_ valedictorian, man, that's rough."

"I do anything else horribly embarrassing that I should know about?" Barry asked.

"Lots of sobbing," Cisco said, thinking, "hysterically sobbing."

"Great."

"Screaming too. Honestly, I really didn't think you knew that many swears. Oh, and second grade lunch –"

"Oh, God, I didn't," Barry groaned.

"Yeah, I didn't know your face could _get_ that red."

"Why did I tell you the story if I was embarrassed?" he asked. It came back to him them.

"I don't know, but you kept talking." He vaguely remembered being extremely embarrassed, and then feeling the need to explain why, the embarrassment eating up inside of him. He really wished right now he hadn't.

"Besides that though, you were just extremely bipolar. Lots of happy, then upset, and back again."

Barry stood up, still rubbing his head, "I'm gonna go home. What time is it anyway?"

"Almost twelve," Cisco said. "I think Wells is upstairs."

"Alright, if you see him tell him bye, and also I'm sorry. A lot."

Cisco laughed, "OK, see ya."

He ran into Caitlin grabbing her coat on the way out.

"Hey," he said. His face went red again and he scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry about… everything."

She flushed. "It's not your fault," she said, walking ahead of him, "although I really think I'm good with childhood stories for a very long time."

Barry laughed. "Yeah, sorry. I don't remember everything, but most of its coming back."

Barry walked with Caitlin down to the door, but she stopped when they reached the stairs out. She took in a breath, looked out at the parking lot, hesitating. It was dark out, only a couple of lights. She bit her lip.

Barry looked at her, then looked out and back. "Did you… want me to, walk you to your car?" he asked.

Her head snapped up at him. "Um, well, I mean if you don't mind…"

"Yeah, no problem," he said, and they started walking out. Barry watched as Caitlin's eyes flicked around the parking lot, but she seemed to relax a little bit with him there. Caitlin unlocked the car and he waited while she got in.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow," he said.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," she said, "thanks."

"No problem," he said, "And sorry… again."

But she smiled at him. "It's fine, Barry."

Barry smiled back, and then he was gone in a gust of wind, and Caitlin started her car to go home.

**So i don't know how good this chapter actually was but it was really fun to write - going to get back to main plot in the next chapter - might just be time for Barry to comfort Caitlin a little bit ;) Oh, and please review i love you all thank you :)))**

**SIDE NOTE - so this is not terribly relevant, but i just wanted to point out that when Cisco says Barry was bipolar, he was using it in the colloquial sense, and it does not entirely coincide with my views or my language, however, i can see Cisco, completely meaning well, to say this, so i put it in. I just wanted to clarify, this does not show bipolar disorder at all, nor does it depict bipolar behavior (bipolar disorder is characterized by reoccuring periods of depression followed by periods of mania, which is basically intense, often reckless joy and enthusiasm. It usually occurs in periods that last weeks or months, but can be much quicker. Not, however, anything like what is depicted in this fic) I realize a lot of people are probably wondering why i would even bother to write this down here, but mental illnesses are very often misunderstood, and it does bother some people a lot when people misuse terms, ie oh my god i'm so depressed, you're so OCD, oh my god, she's bipolar - this can be kind of hurtful to people who do have these illnesses when it's a serious factor in their life, and then people make fun of it, or downgrade the seriousness. So yes, i know the difference, and no this is not bipolar behavior. I don't personally feel offended with the kind of language used above, or most similar expressions, unless it's used in a specific hurtful way. However, i also don't have bipolar disorder, and i wanted to make perfectly clear that i did not intend at all to downgrade or misinterpret the seriousness of this disease, for anyone who has a family member, friend, or themselves personally, and know's how awful it can be. Sorry for rant, i know it's not exactly a huge issue in this type of context, but I felt the need to clarify. If you made it through that whole thing, then thank you for reading and acknowledging my thoughts :) Have a nice day, happy reading :)**


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